Very Special Agents
by Rose DiVerona
Summary: A series of unrelated one-shots chronicling the friendship between Tony and McGee. Both stand-alone and episode tags included. Spoilers through Season 7. No slash. My on-going, anti-writer's block aid.
1. Babysitting Duty

A/N: So I finally gave in to my love of Tony/McGee friendship stories and decided to begin a series of one-shots chronicling their interesting relationship. Some will be tags to episodes and some won't be, as indicated. There will be NO slash. Updates will be irregular; there may be more than one at a time.

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**_Title: _**Babysitting Duty  
**_Pairings:_** None  
**_Spoilers_:** None  
_**Summary:**_ McGee gets stuck keeping an injured and very loopy DiNozzo company.

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**Babysitting Duty**

"Thank you sooo much for my DVD player," Tony drawled lazily, waving the portable machine through the air. "It's gonna be fuuuuun."

McGee mentally groaned. He couldn't believe he got stuck with babysitting duty when DiNozzo was not only awake, but also jacked up on an insane amount of painkillers. He sat down in one of the standard hospital chairs and sighed.

"You're welcome, Tony." He glanced at his watch. A whole six hours until Ziva relieved him. And he would be _extremely_ relieved when that hour rolled around.

"We can watch Indiana Jones!" Tony said excitedly, reaching for the stack of DVDs with his good arm and watching as they toppled onto the floor one by one. "Oops."

"I'll get them. Don't move that arm," Tim warned, scooping up the multiple cases and glancing at his friend's bandaged shoulder. Only Tony could leave to pick up a suspect and get a bullet to the arm out of the experience. They still hadn't found the guy.

"Come sit next to me, Probie." Tony patted the bed. "We can watch together."

"I'm okay over here, actually," McGee said. He held up the sweats he'd brought with him. "You wanna put these on now? It's not exactly warm in here."

"I'm good," Tony said, struggling with the DVD case.

"You two okay in here?" A doctor poked his head into the room, smiling at them.

McGee nodded. Tony dropped the DVD, and the doctor left.

"That's him! It's him!" Tony suddenly leapt out of bed, ripped the IV out of his arm, and streaked out of the room, his flimsy gown trailing behind him.

Shocked, McGee gaped for several long seconds--then he sprang into motion, snatching the sweats off the chair and tearing down the hallway after his partner.

"TONY!"

**~line~**

Tim chased Tony, who was chasing the "doctor," all the way down the stairs, out the door, and down the street. When his quarry turned the corner, he cursed and quickened his pace, rounding the building.

Only to stop suddenly when he found Tony sprawled triumphantly on top of the other man.

"Got him," DiNozzo said smugly.

McGee leaned over and gulped in welcome breaths of fresh air, staring incredulously at the completely non-winded man grinning goofily at him. Underneath DiNozzo, the suspect groaned and moved feebly.

"Get off him," McGee ordered, producing a pair of handcuffs.

Tony sighed and pat his prey on the cheek. "Sorry, buddy. You shouldn't have messed with us." He stepped aside so McGee could properly subdue the man. "You know what this reminds me of, Probie?"

"A movie?" McGee guessed dully, checking the barely conscious man's pulse.

Tony's face lit up. "A movie! Great idea! We should watch one, McGee!"

"Yeah, sure," Tim agreed mechanically, finally content with his examination. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone. "Gotta call Gibbs. Just sit tight."

"Ya know, I never got that one, McGee. How does one 'sit tight?' I mean, are you supposed to contract your butt muscles or something?" He giggled gleefully. "I'm not even _sitting, _McSilly."

McGee paused in dialing to take a look at the injured man. He watched as Tony's eyes crossed and uncrossed, and sighed.

"C'mon, Tony, let's get you back to the hospital. Those painkillers are going to wear off before too long. Put these on; if you freeze to death, Gibbs'll kick my ass." He tossed the sweats at the other man and hoisted their suspect to his feet.

"MCGOO!" Tony wailed, a horrorstruck expression crossing his face. "Why am I naked?"


	2. Deal

_**Title: **_Deal_**  
Pairings: **_Slight Gibbs/M. Allison Hart_**  
**_**_Spoilers: _**None.  
**_Summary: _**Tony and McGee make a bet.

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**Deal**

Tony hung up the phone and turned to his partners. "Just our luck, being on call this weekend. We've got a case."

Ziva sighed and McGee did not look pleased.

"Who's gonna call the boss?" he asked.

"Nose goes!" Tony called, laughing when the other two automatically complied. "Probies first, McGoo."

"Guess that means you, Ziva," McGee said.

She rolled her eyes. "I will do it."

Tony spun around in his desk chair, propping his legs on the desk. "He's probably been cruising around town in his sweet Challenger. Or maybe he's sleeping off a hangover - another late night in the basement with a bottle of bourbon!" He smirked.

"Or maybe he's just enjoying the morning, and he'll get in his car and drive over here," Tim said blandly.

Tony's eyes narrowed. He stood and sauntered to his junior agent's desk, leaning against it.

"You wanna bet on that, McBoring?"

"Not really," McGee backpedaled quickly. Getting into a wager with Tony was never a good idea.

"Chicken."

McGee's ears began to turn red. "What exactly are we betting on?"

"I bet Gibbs will arrive, quite grandly, in his bumblebee car. You think he will appear in the company's Charger."

McGee eyed his partner suspiciously. "Okay, fine. But if I win, you can't call me any nicknames for a week."

Tony grinned. "Fine, but _when_ I win, you buy Ziva and I lunch for the rest of the week."

"I do not want to be dragged into this," Ziva said from across the bullpen.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Fine, just my lunch, then."

"Deal," McGee extended his hand. Tony eyed it for a moment before shaking, slowly. Then he returned to his own desk and sat gingerly, eyes still on his probie. "Ziva - make the call."

**~line~**

A quarter of an hour later, both men stood waiting outside NCIS. An exasperated Ziva was with them, having been dragged downstairs to confirm the winner of the bet.

Tony glanced at his watch. "Any minute now."

McGee was rethinking the whole affair.

"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea. What's he going to think when he sees us out here waiting for him?"

"We're employees who just can't wait to greet their boss at work on a beautiful Saturday morning," Tony replied, only slightly sarcastically.

Ziva snorted.

**~line~**

"I know it's gonna be the Challenger," Tony said happily, five minutes later. "It's the weekend. Why shouldn't he go flashy?"

"It'll be the company car," McGee argued, already bored with the whole ordeal and beginning to wonder why he _always _gave in to Tony's schemes. "It's always that one."

"I think you are both wrong," Ziva said suddenly as a car pulled past the security gate and began to come toward them. She laughed as her partners' jaws dropped in unison.

"Problem, DiNozzo, McGee?" Gibbs asked as he climbed out of the passenger seat of M. Allison Hart's sleek silver Jetta.

McGee found his voice first. "No, boss."

Ms. Hart smiled at them and waggled her fingers. "Shut your mouth, Agent DiNozzo, you'll catch flies."

Gibbs moved past his dumbstruck team toward the doors, calling over his shoulder, "DiNozzo, you and McGee go pick up sandwiches. Might be a long day."

As Ziva followed Gibbs inside and Hart drove off, Tony and McGee stared at each other, at a loss for words.

"I'm driving!" Tony suddenly called, taking off toward the company lot.

"Oh no, not this time!" McGee complained, chasing after him.


End file.
